


take me now!

by The_Eclectic_Bookworm



Category: A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-31
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-05-16 10:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14809577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Eclectic_Bookworm/pseuds/The_Eclectic_Bookworm
Summary: "Everything fades eventually, Ms. Calendar—we knowledge-seekers wish only to preserve it for as long as we can.”Oh, shit,thought Jenny, and forgot how to breathe.





	take me now!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [regenderate](https://archiveofourown.org/users/regenderate/gifts).



> for phoenix!!! because honestly that jenny/olivia fic was Such a kickass thing to read that it finally inspired me to finish the semi-secret thing i was working on....thank u for co-captaining this rowboat of a ship with me m'dear.

Jenny Calendar met Olivia Caliban on picture day, which Flutie always held only a few days into the school year for the staff. Apparently, Sunnydale High had a pretty startlingly high death rate for a school in a relatively suburban area, and Flutie wanted photos of all the staff before they started dropping off like flies.

“They have a little memorial pamphlet sent out at the end of every year,” said Robert Brunswick, who seemed to think the whole thing was pretty funny. When Jenny gave him a flat stare in return, his confident smile wavered and he turned away.

“I don’t see why anyone would think death is something to laugh at,” came a quiet voice from behind Jenny, and she turned.

The woman standing behind Jenny was wearing her hair up, and her eyes were very soft behind her glasses. It was clear that she, like Jenny, was new to Sunnydale High; she held herself with a nervous apprehension as their eyes met, and all the teachers Jenny had been introduced to had greeted her with a mixture of curiosity and a strange sort of sympathy— _welcome to Sunnydale High, you poor lady. They should’ve told you you might end up dead here._

“Yeah, that guy’s a douche,” said Jenny, deliberately loudly. Up ahead of her in line, Robert Brunswick scowled, and a few of his friends looked a little affronted as well. But the woman’s mouth quirked up at the corner, and to Jenny, _that_ was what counted. “Jenny Calendar,” she added, sticking her hand out.

“Olivia Caliban,” said the woman, and this time Jenny noticed that, though Olivia’s voice was quiet, her tone was firm and sure. “I’m the new librarian.”

“Oh, _you’re_ the one who hasn’t responded to any of my emails!” said Jenny. At Olivia’s blush, she hastily added, “No, I’m just kidding—no one has. Sorry. It’s just that—”

“It’s just that I don’t own a computer,” said Olivia shyly. “A recently-unemployed librarian doesn’t have much time to spend on anything outside job-hunting, let alone buying the latest technological—”

“Fad?” Jenny finished a bit sourly.

“I was going to say _necessity,_ ” said Olivia, cocking her head and smiling a little. “A proper purveyor of knowledge never labels a valuable new way to store information as a _fad._ Clay tablets could be classified as _fads,_ I think, yet they were and are revered as incredible sources of information in their time. Everything fades eventually, Ms. Calendar—we knowledge-seekers wish only to preserve it for as long as we can.”

 _Oh, shit,_ thought Jenny, and forgot how to breathe.

* * *

 

“Ugh,” said Buffy.

“Yeah, I know,” said Jenny sympathetically, pressing a damp cloth to the deep cut on Buffy’s forearm. “Those demons have barbs. I’m sorry my intel was faulty.”

Buffy made a face. “It’s okay,” she said. “Sorry I went all Slayer-crazy and rushed in.”

“No, that kinda just seemed like teen-girl crazy,” said Jenny, giving Buffy a small smile. “Look, you and I are both pretty new to this whole Slayer-Watcher thing. Just tell me if I’m pressuring you too much, okay? Don’t pull that one-girl-in-all-the-world crap. You’re basically a baby.”

Buffy looked at Jenny for a long moment, then said, “Merrick made me train on weekends, and he said he was one of the more relaxed Watchers. Why—”

“I’m a _cool_ Watcher, remember?” Jenny grinned a little, then laughed when Buffy made a face. “No? You’re not buying it? Okay. I’m part of a new training experiment on the Watchers’ part after a lot of complaining I did to the Council about the way they did things. They want to see if an American outsider’s methods really work in the field, and if they do—” She stopped.

“If they do?” Buffy prompted.

 _If they do,_ Jenny thought, _the next Slayer called will be trained the same way._ The real reason she was being allowed to train Buffy was that the Council saw Buffy as a liability: a Slayer with friends and family wasn’t usually a Slayer that could be controlled by the Council. Jenny had kind of banked on that, and she was hoping that her training Buffy might be able to prove the Council wrong. Not about the _controlling_ thing, but—that a Slayer was more valuable, of more worth, as a person instead of a tool.

Jenny was pretty damn big on humanity. It was the whole reason she was fighting the good fight, after all—to save people like Olivia, with soft eyes and bitable lips and she was definitely not going down that train of thought while patching up her Slayer. She had more important things to do than act like a moony-eyed schoolgirl.

“What was that about schoolgirls?” said Buffy, sounding wildly amused. Jenny’s head snapped up, and Buffy added helpfully, “You might do better if you didn’t monologue to yourself. You’re like one of those supervillains, except, y’know, more Watchery and less evil.” Her brow furrowed. “Though a case could be made for some Watchers being kinda evil.”

“Ugh,” said Jenny.

“Who’s Olivia?” Buffy added significantly.

“If you tell Willow and Xander, I really will kill you,” said Jenny.

“Oh, c’mon, Willow has bestie privileges!” Buffy objected. “You’re asking a _teenage girl_ to keep secrets from her _best friend?_ That’s totally inhumane, Ms. Calendar.”

“I don’t know if _inhumane_ is the word I’d use, personally—”

“I’ll cut you a deal,” said Buffy. “You tell me who Olivia is, and—and I’ll _consider_ not telling Willow. Maybe.”

“Doesn’t seem like a fair deal to me,” said Jenny.

“Then I _will_ tell Willow,” said Buffy seriously, and giggled at Jenny’s look. “C’mon, Ms. Calendar,” she said. “You know I wouldn’t do something like that to you. I just think—” _oh, god, she’s bringing out the puppy-dog eyes,_ “—that as my Watcher, you should be making every effort to foster trust between us. Don’t you want me to trust you?”

“You’re a smart kid,” said Jenny, beginning to wrap the bandage around Buffy’s arm. “I’m pretty sure you can figure out who she is without too much help.” Plus, Jenny kinda liked the idea of Buffy having something fun and teenage-mischief-esque to occupy herself with.

Buffy considered this, then said, “Can I enlist Willow?”

“It’ll be over in two seconds if you enlist Willow,” Jenny answered.

* * *

Willow Rosenberg was Jenny’s star pupil and the semi-secret excuse Jenny used to hang around in the library. _Oh, I was just picking up this book for Willow. I was just wondering if Willow was here—she does love this library so much. Did Willow leave her book bag here? She came into my class looking for it. Willow’s a great kid, isn’t she? Almost as great as you._

Olivia, unbelievably, hadn’t picked up on  _any_ of Jenny’s deliberately bad excuses, significant questions, or beautifully worded compliments. She met all of Jenny’s flirtation with a sweet sincerity that was making Jenny’s crush a _ridiculously_ difficult thing to manage. “Thank you,” she said when Jenny mentioned her lipstick (her _lipstick,_ for crying out loud), “I really just got it at the mall,” and then gracefully turned the subject to digitizing the library catalogue in order to make it more efficient for students. She’d read a few articles about other schools that had done the same, and she thought it really would be an excellent way to raise a bit of technological awareness, and maybe Jenny could give her a crash course on computer science if that was a possibility?

It was taking all of Jenny’s effort to not just yell “Take me now!” and/or sweep Olivia into a bodice-ripper sort of kiss—whichever one was more convenient. “Yeah, I’d, I’d like that,” she managed, knowing by now that she really _was_ blushing furiously. “I can start setting up a time for my class to—”

“OLIVIA!” Buffy shouted, racing into the library with a horrified Willow at her heels. “Caliban! Olivia Caliban! Caliban and Calendar— _ha!_ ”

“ _Buffy I told you not to run in like that!”_ Willow hissed to her, then turned to a truly mortified Jenny. “This isn’t my fault,” she managed unconvincingly. “I, I think she learned it from—someone else who—who wasn’t me—”

Olivia looked like she was trying not to laugh. “Are you all right, Ms. Calendar?” she asked almost too innocently.

“I need to talk to my students about decorum,” said Jenny in as casually dignified a way she possibly could while still the approximate color of a tomato. “I’ll send you a memo regarding the digitizing of the library catalogue, okay?” and didn’t wait for Olivia’s response before she was shooing the girls out the door.

“ _Caliban!”_ Buffy still sounded utterly delighted. “You and Ms. Caliban! Like, first of all, _way to go,_ she’s definitely the prettiest lady on staff—discounting praying mantis lady, I mean—did praying mantis lady hit on you a little or was that just me? Anyway—”

“Are you going to ask her out?” Willow added excitedly. “Do you think she likes you too? If you had a baby, would it be Calendar-Caliban or Caliban-Calendar? Or maybe Calindar with an I or Caleban with an E, like a name-hybrid? Or—”

“The Watchers’ Council should be paying me _way_ more,” said Jenny, and gently steered Buffy and Willow into the computer lab. “Can we _please_ talk about something not frightening to me, like, oh, I don’t know, vampires? Maybe a nice ghoul?”

“You know what _really_ scares me?” said Buffy solemnly. “You’re like a billion years old—”

“Thirty-four,” said Jenny.

“—and your dating life is _way_ more active than mine,” Buffy finished. Willow elbowed her.

“Please,” said Jenny. “Olivia and I have been on zero dates, with less than zero interaction outside the workplace, and you are _conveniently forgetting_ that I have a supernatural duty to attend to.”

“You basically gave Buffy the go-ahead to get smoochy with anyone she wanted as long as it didn’t affect her slayage,” Willow pointed out. “Shouldn’t the same apply to you?”

“It’s a little different for a Watcher,” said Jenny carefully. “There are a lot more risks involved in having a significant other when you don’t have preternatural strength to protect them from the baddies walking Sunnydale streets after dark.”

“Fair enough,” said Buffy. “But I still think you should at least consider asking her out for coffee.”

“Sure,” said Jenny, who had no intention of doing so. Olivia was one of those people best kept at a distance; she was too wonderful a person to have to deal with all the messed up shit that came hand in hand with knowing about the occult. “I’ll ask her for coffee sometime. Just not now, okay? Let me work my Watcher magic.”

Buffy snorted. Willow elbowed her again.

* * *

 

Jenny did not, as it happened, ask Olivia out for coffee. Jenny ran into Olivia in the most undignified way possible: almost getting attacked by a vampire outside the Espresso Pump. It really was her fault—she’d been passing with supplies for patrol when she’d noticed Olivia leaving the grocery store across the street and immediately started an internal monologue regarding whether she should keep her distance like a wise Watcher should or run in and start flirting like the absolute bisexual nightmare that Jenny Calendar was.

This was when the vampire grabbed her from behind and sunk its fangs into her neck. Jenny stepped on its foot as hard as possible, but it had a pretty good bite, and she really was starting to feel woozy—

The vampire dusted, and a dizzy Jenny fell neatly into Olivia Caliban’s arms. “My goodness, Ms. Calendar,” said Olivia, a thread of very real worry running through her voice, “are you all right? That must have been quite a nasty shock.”

“Ow,” said Jenny weakly, raising a hand to her neck. It came back sticky and red.

“Yes, you’ve lost a significant amount of blood,” said Olivia, voice shaking. “We should sit down.” Gently, she led Jenny over to a bench, helping her to sit before sitting herself. She took Jenny’s hand in hers, raising her other hand to Jenny’s face. Jenny, disoriented, leaned into Olivia’s touch.

“That was a vampire,” said Olivia. “I’m sorry that I’m not giving you more time to rest before giving you this somewhat shocking information, but I’m of the mind that knowledge of the supernatural might save your life if I’m not around to do it next time.”

“Oh, god, I’m gonna be so embarrassed when I tell you what I do for a living,” Jenny realized aloud. “That’s gonna look so bad to you, and you’re so _pretty._ I don’t wanna look bad to you.”

Olivia blinked, then blushed, then gave Jenny a very pleased smile. “You’re quite pretty as well, Jenny,” she said, and the informality didn’t escape Jenny (even while she was still pretty dizzy from the blood loss). “And I do know what you do for a living, if that’s what’s worrying you currently—”

“Not my fake cover job,” said Jenny, who was dimly aware of the fact that she shouldn’t be telling Olivia these things but couldn’t quite remember why. “My real job. You know—kick ass, take names, watch Buffy, kill vampires. Stuff like that.”

Olivia frowned. “Your job is to watch Buffy?”

“Ugh,” said Jenny. “I really suck at explaining things when things are all fuzzy.”

“I should drive you home,” said Olivia finally, sliding an arm around Jenny’s waist. She smelled like old books and a touch of floral perfume, and it was very nice. “Oh—thank you,” said Olivia, and Jenny realized that she’d been thinking out loud again.

Olivia’s car was an old taxicab. “Got it from an old friend,” she said, carefully buckling Jenny into the front seat. “I’d put you in the back, but I’m of the mind we could both use a bit of company after a night like tonight,” and she held Jenny’s hand as they started driving.

“Can we go to your house?” said Jenny. “My apartment is old and awful and I think it’s probably haunted. But not by actual ghosts, ‘cause, ‘cause since I’m a Watcher I need to clarify. I think it’s just haunted by my own loneliness.”

“You’re unusually poetic when you aren’t so encumbered by your own nerves,” said Olivia thoughtfully. “I only wish it didn’t take blood loss for you to be really, truly honest with me.”

“I’m honest with you,” Jenny objected, then amended, “as honest as I can afford to be.”

“There’s a very distinct difference,” said Olivia, and pulled into the driveway of a small house painted light blue with purple trimming. She got out of the car first, then opened the door, helping Jenny out with her. Her arm found its way around Jenny’s waist again, solid and firm as she guided Jenny up the porch steps, unlocked the door, and led them both into a dark foyer.

“You c’n keep the lights out,” Jenny mumbled, and felt a dizzy, exhausted rush that might not just be solely blood loss. How many hours had she been sleeping, anyway, working and working as a Watcher? Keeping Sunnydale safe all by herself was a tiring line of work, especially when her cohorts were all decades younger than she was.

“Oh, poor dear,” said Olivia in a concerned tone of voice that Jenny thought she might replay in her mind on rainy days ( _on this particular night, Olivia Caliban called me a poor dear),_ and then Jenny really did black out.

* * *

 

Jenny woke up on Olivia’s couch, covered in a knitted throw and with gauze taped over the bite mark on her neck. It was early morning, and Olivia was sitting next to her, quietly drinking a cup of tea.

“Don’t suppose you have any coffee?” said Jenny weakly.

“Unfortunately, I don’t,” said Olivia, and idly ran a hand through Jenny’s hair. Jenny shivered. “Do you remember much of last night?”

“Bits,” said Jenny, then winced. “I guess I owe you an explanation about the whole Watcher thing, huh?”

“You don’t owe me a thing,” said Olivia gently, “but you should know that, much as I like you, I’m not in the habit of entering romantic relationships—casual or otherwise—with people who aren’t completely honest with me.”

Jenny didn’t even have time or space in her brain to think about what a responsible Watcher would and wouldn’t divulge. “You like me?” she said, sitting up way too fast and getting a dizzy rush.

Olivia shot her a reproving look and pushed her firmly back down. “You’re still resting,” she said.

“You like me?” Jenny repeated to the ceiling.

“Enough to know that you’re not always the most honest of women,” said Olivia, “and to notice that you’re hiding something.”

Jenny kept on thinking about how Olivia smelled like old books and floral perfume. “Iris,” she said. “That’s your scent. Wisdom, isn’t it?”

“I’m a seeker of knowledge,” Olivia answered, leaning down. She had let down her hair, and it fell in soft locks against Jenny’s face as they looked at each other. “And you?”

“I’m a Watcher,” said Jenny, eyes on Olivia’s lips. “I protect and guide the Vampire Slayer, and if you know about vampires I’m pretty sure you should know what a Vampire Slayer does.”

“More than,” said Olivia, who seemed just as affected by their closeness as Jenny. “I wrote a very enlightening academic essay on the role of the Vampire Slayer only a few months prior to our meeting. Prior to my extensive research on Hellmouths, of course.”

“Take me now,” said Jenny. Olivia turned pink. “I-I mean,” said Jenny, then, “Shit. Well, it was gonna come out at _some_ point, I guess.”

Olivia pushed her hair back and out of the way, then clambered a bit awkwardly onto the couch, lying down on top of Jenny with her cheek on Jenny’s shoulder. Jenny drew in a shaky breath. “I think, Ms. Calendar,” said Olivia, “that I’d very much like to join you and your Vampire Slayer in your crusade against the forces of darkness.”

“Yeah?” said Jenny. “We’d love to have you.” Tentatively, she reached up, resting her arm against Olivia’s waist. Olivia made a soft noise that sounded quite close to a purr. “It’s me, Buffy, Willow, and Xander,” Jenny added. “Buffy being the Slayer, and Willow and Xander being her friends who follow her along. Can’t really dissuade people when they’re motivated by warm fuzzy feelings, I guess.”

“No, you really can’t,” said Olivia, and gave Jenny that beautifully genuine smile. “I’d follow you anywhere.”

Jenny rolled over and onto her side, her nose brushing against Olivia’s. This close, she could decisively label Olivia’s eyes as _hazel,_ and notice the way Olivia’s tongue darted out to lick her lips, and see the way the early morning light brought out the red-gold hue to Olivia’s hair. “I might kiss you, now,” she said, soft and a little shaky. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this close to someone.

“Didn’t you ask me to _take you now?_ ” Olivia’s voice was light and playful. “I’d hope someone with that kind of certainty would just kiss me already.”

Jenny grinned and reached up, cupping Olivia’s face in her hands. She lightly rubbed her nose against Olivia’s before kissing her, a light brush of lips. Olivia, however, complicated the situation by making a soft, pleased noise between a gasp and a sigh, and Jenny just _had_ to kiss her deeply after that. “How’s that for certainty,” she whispered against Olivia’s mouth, biting down softly on her lower lip.

“Mmm, I’d say you make a convincing case, Ms. Cal-en-dar!” Olivia’s words were becoming higher and more breathy as Jenny kissed her neck. “Goodness,” she managed, “I _really_ didn’t realize how good you were going to be at this.”

“I’m a little out of practice,” said Jenny, smiling against Olivia’s neck and feeling the last remnants of last night’s lipstick smudge. “I’m glad my performance is satisfactory.”

“Were I grading you, I’d give you something _much_ higher than satisfactory,” said Olivia, and even breathless, she still had that solid sureness to her voice.

* * *

 

“Calendar-Caliban,” said Buffy when she entered the library the next day. Olivia and Jenny, both hopelessly rumpled, jumped apart. Buffy very pointedly ignored this. “I think it’s got a nice ring to it. Much better than any of the weird hybridized names Willow came up with for any potential lovechild of yours, and you always wanna save the best for last.”

“ _Hey,_ ” said Jenny, but she was grinning.

“Hmm, in that case, we should be Caliban-Calendar,” said Olivia, and kissed Jenny on the cheek. Buffy, smiling slightly, rolled her eyes.


End file.
